Going Feet First Ch. 05

Her screams stopped the instant her pain subsided, those harsh moments of suffering bringing a pleasured sigh from her when the ended. After taking a few relaxed breaths and enjoying the feeling of a refreshed body, the cloaked woman opened her eyes and looked to her healer as he stood up. Upon realizing his race, however, she frowned.

"A human?" she whispered aloud in Drow, beginning to sit up and reach into her belt.

"Yes, my human, and off limits to you, guardswoman."

The authoritative voice drew her attention away from the surfacer and over to an approaching figure. Right away, the city guard recognized the distinctive yellow plate armor of the Sun-Kissed and pulled her hand away from the weapon. She doubted if pulling one would've been a wise choice in the first place seeing how the human carried one of his own across his back.

When the surfacer stepped aside to make way for the Sun-Kissed, the guard quickly pushed herself off from the ground to get onto her feet. Right on standing though, her mid-section cramped up and a harsh, tearing pain struck her hard enough to make her squeal and double over with a tear running loose from her eye. Out of the corner of her peripheral she saw the human's feet step toward her, but she moved a hand to the hilt of her sword and he immediately backed off.

Sucking in a breath and gritting her teeth, she relaxed her freshly healed core muscles and once again tried to stand up straight, being able to only to come up to a crippled hunch to face the Sun-Kissed now within arm's reach. Surface words were exchanged between the armored warrior and the human, and the surfacer quickly nodded and acknowledged her words. After passing the guardswoman a surprisingly respectful nod, he jogged over to another wounded Drow on the side of the street, his arms lighting up with a white glow.

With no marks or unique insignia showing on the woman's yellow battle-wear to clearly identify her, the guardswoman politely bowed her head to ask, "What is your rank, sister?"

"Third Commandant," Dreek responded. "And if you try to harm that human, you will be executed."

A confused look passed over the guardswoman's face as she passed a glance at the human performing his magic on one of the other recipients of the escaped slave's lightning magic. Within moments the boiled skin on the woman's body smoothed over and healed completely, though immediately after she let out several whimpers of pain as her whole body shifted with discomfort.

"Of course, Commandant," she responded, eyeing the human carefully. "I won't touch him."

"Good, make sure the rest of the Faerssune guard are informed as well. And know, too, that the male that attacked you is both wounded and powerless at the moment, I leave him for you to deal with."

The guard looked over to the male who sat watching her, clutching his leg as his face cringed in a visual show of pain. Despite his wound, he did not wipe that look of contempt from his face. If anything, he only showed more disgust for the one who had one who had been giving him chase since the market district in the center of the city.

"My thanks, Commandant," the guardswoman declared, once again bowing her head to the Sun-Kissed leader.

"You are welcome," Dreek replied before looking over to her pet. "Galen, finish your task and then mount onto the spider."

"Yes, Dreek," he responded, his attention still focused on the Drow he was healing.

His regenerative magic was just restoring the skin and bone to the scorched section of her ribcage. When two splintered ribs became one again, her ashen face cringed and she let out a soft whimper. A raw unshaped growth of flesh began to bubble up from the exposed meat on her ribs.

This growth continued to expand until it had covered the red, throbbing meat in a swell of dark grey skin. Then like an emptying water bladder, the growth deflated and smoothed over the raw flesh, with excess skin simply folding over and molding in as though it was dough being shaped in the hands of a master chef. When the glow of Galen's hands faded, all that remained to evidence the wound was the lighter tone of the healed skin.

With the damage undone, Galen braced himself as the Drow's eyes shot open and she let out a sharp scream. Just as the aftereffect lashed out at her nerves, she immediately lashed out at the bringer of her pain with her sharp nails; the Private was barely able to scramble back in time to dodge her clawed strike. In the following moment, the Drow collapsed onto her side, wrapping her arms around her chest and taking deep breaths as she shivered in the aftershock of that agonizing pain.

Letting out a long, deep breath, Galen pushed himself up off the floor and extinguished the lingering glow in his hands. When his "patient" glanced up at him, suppressing a weak cough and rubbing a hand over where her wound had been, he gave her a respectful nod and turned for Dreek's mount. He could feel the gaze of many watchful eyes as the civilians held back by Keetle and Felyn continued stare at him. Some seemed hostile, others curious, but nearly all of them kept whispering and pointing, their faces disturbing the calm in the Private's stomach..

I'm a strange foreigner in a reclusive world doin' things they ain't never seen before. All of them are gonna stare so just suck it up and move on.

When he climbed onto the back of Dreek's spider, the giant tarantula's hair rippled between his legs and its mandibles clicked as though to grumble about an unwanted burden. Seeing her passenger settled and ready, Dreek gave a command and the arachnid started moving. Keetle and Felyn rode to defensive positions in front and behind the beast, and the crowd that had gathered to investigate the lightning dispersed to make room for the Commandant's entourage.

After riding only a few blocks away from the scene of the attack, Galen looked back to see several lizard mounts converge on the smoldering stretch of street. The riders, armored and cloaked just like the first Drow woman he had healed, dismounted. They set out to secure the area, forming a perimeter around the ruined building and motioning forth civilians that caught their attention.

The Private could hear the people there speaking to the guards, followed by someone swearing in the Drow language. A trio of the riders then turned to the male with the lightning, readying their weapons as he lifted his hands in a defensive manner. He began to cry out, to scream and try to crawl away, but the guards did not hesitate in coming down upon him with the business ends of their blades.

Before he bore witness to what came next, Galen turned back to the path ahead and unslung his rifle. As he shouldered his weapon and took to observing his surroundings, he wondered, Just what the hell else am I gonna find down here?

"You are performing well, Galen," Dreek announced, Keetle suddenly perking up and glancing back over her shoulder toward him.

The statement took him by surprise at first; the Private had to think about her compliment to realize that she had actually given him one.

"I'm only doin' what I'm told," he replied.

"Which is doing you good. Others before you tried to rebel or escape at this point... or found themselves incapable of doing what was asked of them."

"'Others?'" Galen inquired, having to think for a moment to catch on. "How many men have you brought down here to be trained as a pet?"

Dreek looked to her hand and counted off her fingers while mouthing Drow words. After extending all five digits on one hand, she carried on to the other, driving a sick feeling in Galen's stomach.

"Six, maybe seven. None of them showed your promise and all of them are now dead," she said in a cold manner. "Keep as you are, Galen, and you will receive the full benefits of the Sun-Kissed."

Nodding while holding back the surprise he felt, the Private returned his attention to his surroundings. Six... they tried six times to find someone willing to cooperate? I guess I can understand why... with how... evil they can be... fuck, so long as I get Celia freed, I don't care what I have do.

..................

Concealed within the shadows of an alleyway, the dark ghost of Viekirra and the faint silhouette of a spectral Necela stood observing the street and its Dark Elf populace. So many of the obsidian-skinned elves were still in wonder or confusion with the sudden transformation of their home cavern. They still awed over all the plant life growing between the buildings of their city district. Some were already seeking out uses for the plants that had spawned, others working to destroy them en masse. None of these people held the attention of the watching ethereal beings as they merely waited for their true interest to arrive.

It did not take long for the somewhat crowded street to begin to clear. As the general buzz of conversation calmed to be replaced with whispers. The Drow then parted to form a path for a small entourage of riders to pace their way through. The lead Drow riding on a giant lizard watched over civilians as well as the large arachnid following behind her, while the rider of the spider herself kept her eyes forward and held an authoritative pose.

Both the watching deities could feel this Drow woman's magic reaching out to the surrounding area. Without any indication to alert those around her, her abilities kept "feeling" the auras of the bodies around her and gauge their strength in the arcane. It was a grand display of her power and strength, to be able to perform such a sweep with little physical show of her doing so.

Yet despite the spectacle of this woman's ability to perform magical arts, she soon fell beneath notice of the two goddesses. Instead they both focused upon the human riding atop the spider's silk sack, their eyes locking on to him while they looked into his aura. A warm smile immediately grew across Necela's ghostly face.

You're alright, Galen. I'm glad to see it.

When the entourage continued on down the street, Necela glanced over at Viekirra, who glared back at her with a questioning look. The goddess of life gave a nod, and the underground deity crossed her arms while shaking her head.

"I saw him when the Sun-Kissed first dragged him down," she stated in a low voice. "Had I been aware of his importance, I would have stopped him from entering the underground. But now I cannot interfere."

"Why is that?" Necela questioned, watching as the Galen's group rode further away.

Without warning, the young man suddenly sat up straight and scanned all around as though he was alarmed with something. After checking his surroundings he turned in his seat to look in Necela's direction, his eyes narrowing upon her general area. Though she knew he couldn't see her, she didn't rule out him sensing her presence. After all, she had granted him arcane power, and that did require giving unto him a piece of herself...

Tilting her head forward and glancing off to the side, her ghostly appearance quivering like smoke in the wind, Viekirra answered the question posed by her counter-part. "The Mistress's followers worship her and her alone. Some may know of you and your sisters and the other little figures across the surface, but their faith still lies with Lolth. If I try to act out of her interests in her absence... I don't even know what fate she would give me, what agonizing eternity to which she would damn me."

A vine suddenly sprouted up the side of the building beside the two goddesses, several red roses blooming along its length until it finally reached the top of the alley where it then arced over and descended down the other side. With a hissing sound echoing in her throat, Viekirra pressed her smoky hand to her forehead just as the vine settled on the ground and spawned one last rose from a bud at her feet.

"By the abyss, I doubt I shall remain in one piece when she discovers what has become of this cavern."

When the Drow deity clenched her jaw at the thoughts of her future, Necela placed a spectral hand upon her shoulder. "I will be taking the blame for this, Viekirra, do not worry yourself."

"I do worry myself because I know it will not be so simple," she growled as she looked back at Necela.

"No, but I will take care of your Mistress when the time comes. And until then, assist me with Galen."

A malicious glow lit up Viekirra's spectral red eyes as she shirked the hand off her shoulder and turned to the goddess. "Tell me, Necela, what is the importance of that human? What great value does some surface whelp have that could have provoked you into coming down into Lolth's underground and perverting it as you have?"

Folding her arms with a disappointed look, Necela answered in a calm tone, "I have invested much into this human, and he has done well in his service to me. But because of my negligence he is down here and his love is in the hands of the very evil I had sent him out to stop."

"Well, congratulations, Necela," Viekirra hissed, the line making the life goddess cringe with a tear appearing in one of her eyes. "But it should not be of any care of yours what happens to a single being when you have an entire world to watch over. In the broad spectrum of your influence, he does not matter."

"This one does matter!" Necela snapped, trying to repress any more the phantom tears from building in her eyes. "Just as he should be a care of yours so long as he is in the underground! For as long as he remains down here. So. Shall. I."

Despite the sneer she received from the dark Deity in front of her, Necela didn't budge from this decision and held a firm look about her. She knew her puppet stood no chance against the Drow goddess, but if were something to happen to her puppet at this point, she would be paying a more personal visit to the world beneath the surface.

And not even Lolth would be able to stop her.

A low hiss echoed in Viekirra's throat before she managed to growl a question. "If you intend to make this such a personal quest, tell me, is there a plan to remove him from the Underdark?"

Still not calmed from her outburst, Necela gave a nod, "Yes... I have one."

"Then speak up and let us get it over with."

Necela frowned, but ultimately huffed before she explained, "My shard has brought surface life to this cavern, changing the land and stone itself. If such a magnificent change has been possible on such a scale, could a Drow woman have been significantly changed as well?"

Viekirra's eyes narrowed at the surface goddess. "You will pose as such a woman?"

"Yes. And you will help make them believe while ensuring your mistress' interests are safe guarded."

"Putting me at your side." Viekirra had suspicion in both her eyes and tone.

"Only until I have freed Galen from those who hold onto him, so do not think I wish to take you away from your duties," Necela added.

For several long moments, the Drow goddess stared into Necela's starry night eyes. Her stance was steady, her fists tense. Both her eyes flared with a blood red glow as she glanced again in the direction Galen had gone, but soon her gaze returned to the surface power in front of her.

"Do you swear to preserve the will of my mistress?" she finally hissed.

"I swear. I have no interest apart from Galen."

Still scowling, the underground goddess breathed out, her fist squeezing one last time before it relaxed and her deathly glare broke away. Her ghostly body scattered like smoke into dozens of wisps that hovered over the alley just as Necela's form shrunk and morphed into a spectral butterfly.

"Explain the rest of your plan on the way," Viekirra's voice echoed. "No more wasted time."

......................

What the hell was that?

The question dogged Galen's mind as he tried to keep a watch over his surroundings for any threats. His focus, however, kept drifting away from the Commandant's safety and back to what he had felt just moments ago.

If only for a second, he could have sworn he had felt a familiar presence that rang welcome in his chest. In that moment with it he felt calm, comfort, healing, all wash over him in a warm wave that had him shrugging off all the pain in the world. It had made him feel at ease and forgetful of the cruel nature of the Drow that surrounded him. If only for a second.

He couldn't figure out where he knew the presence from, or how he knew it, he just recognized it. And now that it was gone, he just felt a dark hollow inside. In many ways, what he felt reminded him of Celia, but it wasn't exactly like her, just... his mind associated the sensation he had received with her, but that made the question echo deeper in his mind, What brought it on?

"Galen, eyes ahead, now," Dreek ordered.

"What is it?" he asked, shaking his head out and trying to push the question aside.

"Look."

Right on cue, Keetle pulled her reigns back to slow her riding lizard down and come to Dreek's side to give the Commandant an unobstructed view of the path ahead. The local populace had gathered around in a circle surrounding something or someone. There was a pulsing blue light from the middle of the crowd, as well as waves of arcane power potent enough for even Galen to sense.

And there it was again.

Galen's eyes narrowed as he felt that presence once more. Calm took over his mind, the bite mark Keetle left in his lip during their rutting, as well as the scratches Felyn left in his back, both rapidly healed over with a gloriously soothing feeling. His tense muscles felt like they were being ironed out, his hollow chest being flooded with warmth once again.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Felyn glancing his way, the Empath suddenly relaxing in her saddle as everything he was feeling was channeled into her. Though Galen was unsure she was aware of it, she even cracked a smile. A real, warming, smile.

When Dreek turned in her saddle to look back upon her pet, a deep frown arched over her eyes and at once Galen knew she was angry... or perhaps simply annoyed at something. She turned toward the crowd and began yelling in Drow, and they quickly started to move away from the source of this wondrous feeling coursing through his body.

"Dismount!"

The order registered in Galen's mind instantly. In one smooth action he swung his rifle over his shoulder and climbed off the side of the spider. With an energized hop to his step, he readied his rifle and jogged up to Dreek who was ordering the civilians to clear out and allow her to reach the middle of the circle. For some odd reason, he found himself overly eager to see what had caused this occurrence in the street.

As Keetle caught up to her Commandant, she gave an abrupt wave of her hand and the air pulsed in front of Dreek with her magic. That invisible force shoved several women aside and opened up the circle to allow the Sun-kissed leader through. In that instant, both the Private and the Commandant laid eyes upon what the surfacer could only describe as an enchanting sight.

A Drow woman, clothed in only a most simple, white dress, sat huddled with her knees against her chest in the middle of the circle. Her brilliant, light-blue hair flowed freely over her body, descending half-way down her back as well as draping over her face as she rested her cheek against her knees.

With bright, solid blue eyes she met Dreek's powerful gaze in a way that had the Commandant immediately take a step back with a hand coming to the hilt of one of her daggers. When tension seemed to stir, the calming atmosphere pressed itself further upon the watching Drow to keep them all under its power.

Dreek's eyes narrowed as this broad influence came upon her, prodding at the gates of her mind. At once her defenses went up as she reached out with her magic to feel for her aids. Only her senses caught something awry.